Imani's Dilemma (Drumbeats Romance)

by Kalinga, Kiki

  Before either of them could react, Carina turned on her heel and stalked off. Kevin looked after her, barely concealing his fury but seemed to decide against following her. “Imani, I’m so, so sorry. She must have done this when she borrowed my phone, but I had no idea that she would go to such lengths.” His eyes hardened, “I think I will need to have a few words with my sister, but I promise you, Imani, I did not know about this.”

  Imani nodded uncertainly. It was all so complicated. She winced as she thought of how yet another misunderstanding had almost ruined their relationship once more. But that didn’t matter now. Kevin wasn’t in love with someone else after all! Her body was infused with a surge of joy. She looked up at Kevin and smiled.

  “So, you do love me?”

  Her heart thumped at the intensity of his gaze. All she could think about was how close her body was to Kevin’s. Her breath mingled tantalisingly with his.

  “I have always loved you,” Kevin took a deep breath as he caressed her face.

  “I loved the girl I had left behind when I went away. But I didn’t realise that you had grown into a woman,” Kevin pulled her closer, “A woman who any man would be lucky to have.”

  “What about your family – Cari…?” she whispered as his hands trailed along her jaw.

  “I promise you I’ll never let her treat you badly. Ever. Nothing else matters to me but you.” The moment that his lips met hers she knew that she had found her paradise at last. No more dilemma, just true love and true happiness.

  THE END

  Here’s a teaser of “Stuck together”, a fun, flirty Drumbeats romance, by Vaishnavi Ram Mohan:

  “No way!” she screamed, “This cannot be happening to me!”

  Alisha crumpled the white envelope and lobbed it to the floor. The source of her frustration lay on the bed – the letter that had been inside the envelope.

  Dear Ms Oketch,

  We regret to inform you that your application for campus accommodation renewal has been rejected and your accommodation rescinded. As you are aware, there are more student applications than places available and unfortunately, we cannot provide on-campus housing for each student. As such, we offer priority to freshmen and international students and as a final year student, you are no longer eligible for guaranteed campus accommodation.

  We can however recommend a list of approved off-campus residences for you to…

  The rest of the text was obscured by the heaps of clothes that dominated the rest of the bed.

  “Bullshit!” Alisha cursed, flinging her arms out, “They tell me this now! Idiots!”

  Alisha Oketch, fourth-year student at Kolaba International University, was not a happy girl as she tried to ponder a way out of this scrape.

  So where do I go now? With just over a week to go before classes resumed, she knew time was short and it would be near impossible to get a place.

  For the past three-and-a-bit years, the tiny dorm room had been Alisha’s home, her cosy little haven. And now, with just one semester to go, she would have to leave it!

  It took an hour of sulking before Alisha finally snapped out of it and decided to make a move. Sitting around moping isn’t going to help. The longer I wait, the more remaining places around campus will be taken. But I need help for this task.

  Luckily, the person she had in mind lived just a few minutes away. She rummaged around the messy room before finally locating her cell phone under the heaped shoe-rack, nestled in between a pair of high heels and a faded pink sandal.

  “Babe, I need your help. Can we meet right away? Tafadhali?”

  A quick affirmation came from the other end of the line.

  “You’re on your way? Sawa, then I’ll meet you at the cafeteria in ten minutes,” Alisha said, hanging up.

  Ten minutes later, Alisha rushed out of the room, not bothering to change out of her mismatched slippers.

  She reached the cafeteria and was greeted by the all-too-familiar and none-too-appetising aroma of burnt oil and overcooked food. As usual, the cafeteria was packed and Alisha craned her neck to see if they would manage to grab a table.

  She soon spotted the girl she was looking for sitting at a corner table. Not that it took much effort. Makena Kabura, her best friend, was just under six feet tall and sported bright red hair extensions.

  Distinctive braids notwithstanding, Makena had been the first real friend Alisha had formed. The two had hit it off from the orientation session, when they had been stuck next to each other. A mutual hatred of long speeches and a shared love for Eric Wainaina had helped them establish a bond that had survived the various fragilities of campus life. Though Alisha was quite popular, Makena was her closest friend by a long margin.

  Being so far away from her own parents and all alone in Nairobi, Alisha had become very close to Makena and her family over the past three years. She was a regular visitor at the Kabura household and got along very well with Makena’s parents and brother.

  She weaved her way through the crowded room, stopping here and there to greet friends before finally reaching her table.

  “Those things look stale,” Alisha announced, plonking herself on the creaky chair unceremoniously. She scrunched up her nose at the shrivelled mandazis that resembled those spongy stress-busters that people squeezed.

  “Good morning to you too,” Makena replied, “I’m starving. If you had given me time to eat breakfast, I wouldn’t have to eat this stuff or drink the tea.”

  Alisha’s attention turned to the watery, murky-brown fluid that was in the chipped mug next to her friend.

  “I hear some people drink urine as a form of therapy. Is that why you’re drinking animal piss?”

  Makena grimaced, and set down the cup, from which she’d been about to take a sip. Alisha smirked. Insulting the campus food was standard procedure for her.

  “You dragged me out at 9 am and you said it was important. Now, if you’re done killing my appetite, can you tell me what the fuss is about?” Makena glared at Alisha.

  Alisha’s smile vanished.

  “Aki Makena, I’m screwed. The administration has revoked my accommodation. I need somewhere to stay and I need your help finding a place.”

  “Haiya! What are you planning now?”

  “That’s the point. I don’t have a plan. Do you have any ideas?”

  Makena bit her lip, apparently deep in thought. She lived with her parents and brother in a posh villa and had never ventured into the murky world of campus housing. Moving out into the less-than-posh campus residences was apparently not something you considered when you lived in a palatial house in the Muthaiga area, drove your own car and had a six-figure monthly allowance.

  Alisha rummaged in her bag before extracting the letter. She handed it to Makena, who perused it in silence.

  “Not enough space, my foot,” Alisha scoffed, “And half the final year students can still buy a room on the place.”

  Kolaba International University, or KIU, as most people called it, despite being the top university in East Africa, was notorious for the limited housing options and the overpriced hostels nearby. Campus accommodation was always in heavy demand since it was furnished, serviced and had good amenities, with no worries of security, power, water or transport.

  Makena sighed, drawing Alisha out of her thoughts.

  “Lakini, they have a point. You just have your research project this sem. I’m sure there are others who need the place more.”

  Right as always. One of the many things Alisha admired about her friend was her ability to put things in perspective and her non-whiny attitude to life. Something I’d do well to learn.

  “I suppose you’re right,” she sighed, “I guess I should be glad I managed to keep my room for three years. But now what? Babe, could you help me find another place? Can w
e go house-hunting together?”

  Makena nodded. “No problems,” she paused, cocking her head to one side and giving a sly grin, “Lakini, what’s in it for me?”

  I saw this one coming. Alisha pretended to debate the matter before dangling her bait.

  “My red heels.”

  Makena’s eyes widened, “You mean the gladiators?”

  Alisha nodded. She knew Makena wouldn’t be able to resist. Even the best of friends need a small bribe every now and then.

  Makena shoved her half-eaten mandazi and mug of tea away and stood up, an excited glint in her eyes.

  “Sawasawa amigo, let’s go hunt you a house!”

  ***

  “Wacha, Alisha!”

  They had walked back to Alisha’s room to begin the house search and Makena was clearly stunned by the state of Alisha’s room. It looked like a disaster zone after a terrorist’s air raid. Not an inch of space to walk without tripping over something. Put simply, absolute chaos.

  “Cut me some slack. I was unpacking,” Alisha said defensively. Neatness was never my strong point, anyway.

  “Where’s your bed?” Makena asked, before finding it under stacks of clothes, unmade, with cushions for pillows and a badly darned duvet. “Babe, you do know you’re too messy for your own good,” she mumbled, perching precariously on the bed, trying not to upset the mountain of things already on top of it.

  “Nothing like the Internet to kick-start a house-hunt. Leave it to Facebook and OLX to turn up something,” Alisha said, retrieving her laptop from its lacy grave amidst a pile of lingerie.

  Within an hour, they had discovered half-a-dozen places and decided to make a move on checking out the apartments. The first one was right next to the campus, on top of a restaurant called ‘Fresh-Air Café’. As they approached the place, Alisha reflected on the irony of the name. The dingy café looked anything but airy or fresh, with its terrible lighting and grimy tables. The place was one she had visited in her freshman year but the ensuing bout of food poisoning had led her to give it a wide berth ever since. Now, she remembered exactly why. She could clearly see the plates and dishes from the previous evening’s dinner service still lying in the kitchen and shuddered.

  How could I have ever eaten here? Who’d put their intestines at such risk just to save a mere 30 bob on chips?

  It turned out the apartment wasn’t much better. Minus the dirty dishes, the apartment was as musty and creepy as the restaurant below. The thought of living on top of the restaurant with the smells of fried chicken and githeri and chips permeating her bedroom was not appealing and they left without even checking the rent.

  Their next stop was a small pack of flats, also located on top of a cyber café and restaurant. The place did not look much better than Fresh-Air, although the enthusiastic old man who was showing them around tried to assure them how good the house was.

  “Iko poa sana. The place is good. Just needs to be cleaned a bit and it will be fine. Once we clean it up and paint it, it will be perfect! Good water supply, all-time electricity, even free Internet!”

  He then told them the place was up for just 6k a month, almost a third of what she was currently paying. Alisha was actually giving it a thought when she spotted a shadow scurry across the floor.

  “What was that?” she exclaimed, pointing in the direction.

  “Relax. It’s probably just a cockroach or a lizard,” the old man said sounding unconcerned.

  “Cockroach? Lizard?” Alisha squeaked.

  “Ehee. Usiogope. They’re harmless.”

  Alisha begged to differ, but the old man added casually, “Inafaa uogope panya.” It’s the rats you need to watch out for.

  “Did you say rats?” she said, her voice quivering in horror.

  “Ehe. They sometimes escape from the ground floor. They come for the food from the restaurant.”

  The girls fled.

  ***

  Three days later, Alisha was getting desperate. She had less than a week to clear out of the campus dorms and still hadn’t found a place. It felt like she had checked out almost every place and nothing yet. After the rat scare, they had stopped looking at any apartments above cafes and restaurants, which had greatly reduced her options. Hostels, paying-guest accommodations, apartments, bedsitters, she’d searched them all. Each place was either too small, too dirty, lacking facilities or just too far from the campus. If the apartment was the right size, it didn’t have electricity and water supply. The places that were affordable were too dingy. And the places that were nice were either too expensive or just not available. Living on a modest student budget, Alisha had to squeeze rent, bills, food and all her other expenses into her allowance.

  Even friends had drawn a blank.

  “Some friends,” Alisha huffed aloud, “For the supposed popular girl on campus, no one has helped out!”

  As it had turned out, all of her friends were already living with flatmates or roommates and nobody seemed to be able to squeeze her in.

  Her mother lived in Mombasa, her father in Rwanda, so moving home was not an option. And though her family wasn’t destitute or anything, she knew finances were tight and she couldn’t just ask them for a hand-out at such short notice. Alisha sighed deeply and waded her way to the door through the half-open cartons and upended suitcases. She had neither packed nor unpacked, so things were scattered everywhere.

  She headed to the cafeteria for a lunch date with Makena, to discuss the way forward in her house conundrum. Alisha chose an apple and a can of yoghurt and watched as Makena loaded her plate with chicken, rice and matoke stew. They squeezed into a corner table and Makena scowled at her meagre lunch.

  “That’s all?” she asked.

  “I’m not that hungry,” she said which was true, before continuing, “and this place doesn’t look or smell appetizing,” waving a hand to gesture at the décor of the room.

  A sickly sort of pink on a pale green background. Puke on vomit, she liked to call it. And she always wondered which numbskull had been responsible for doing the artwork on the walls. Whoever it was had a fetish for weird animals and had put up caricatures of ducks, frogs, swordfish and even what looked suspiciously like an iguana on each of the walls. The fat, overfed cats which teemed around the tables, sneaking leftovers and curling under the chairs, did nothing to improve the ambiance. This time though, she kept her mouth shut. She didn’t think it would be wise to bring up the topic of diphtheria as Makena tucked in, not when Makena was helping her out so much.

  “So, any luck on the house search today? Anything good turn up?”

  Alisha shook her head sadly. “I’ve shortlisted a couple, but they’re not great. I suppose I can manage for a few months though.”

  “Don’t stress,” Makena said sympathetically, “I’m sure something will work out.”

  Alisha appreciated the confidence, even if she didn’t share it.

  “I don’t know if I’m being too picky. I want a room for around 10k somewhere near here, preferably with my own bathroom. Is it too much to ask for a clean place with running water, electricity and proper sanitation?”

  Suddenly, Makena banged her fist on the table, causing Alisha to jump in alarm.

  “Of course!”

  “What?” Alisha asked, perplexed.

  “Babe, I’ve been so stupid! I can’t believe I didn’t think of this before!”

  “Think of what?” Alisha repeated.

  “I just found a solution to your problem!”

  “What?”

  “I think I might have somewhere for you to stay!”

  “Are you going to come to the point or am I going to have to keep asking what?” Alisha snapped, on tenterhooks.

  Makena looked offended, “There’s no need to be snappy. I just realised, you could stay at P
edro’s!”

  It took a few seconds for Alisha to comprehend. “What do you mean?”

  “Pedro’s. You know we have an apartment there, right?”

  Then it clicked. Pedro’s was a small housing complex about ten minutes’ walk from the campus. It had privately owned apartments that were mostly let out to students. The place was great, but Alisha had not even checked there, knowing fully well that it was way beyond her budget.

  “But Makena … your apartments are probably all let out. And even if they aren’t, I don’t think I could aff…”

  “Jeez, Al, stop being such a pessimist. Let me see what I can do. I’ll talk to Dad and see if we can work something out for you.”

  Alisha gave Makena a hug. “That would be awesome. Thanks a million, hun.”

  ***

  True to her word, Makena came back the next day with tidings.

  “You’re in luck. One of our flats got empty yesterday. It’s available for letting from next week. Normally, there is a waitlist, and many people want the place. But since my father owns the flat, he’s agreed to hold the place for you!”

  “Woooohoooo!” Alisha shrieked, relief flooding through her, “But that’s not very fair, is it? To the people on the waitlist?” she asked, her face creasing into a frown.

  Makena shrugged, “I guess not. So are you going to sacrifice this house?”

  “Hell no!” Alisha replied instantly.

  “If you want to check out the place, you could do it today. At about eleven.”

  Alisha grabbed her best friend, elated. “Definitely. Darling, I owe you big-time. You’re an absolute lifesaver. You can ask me a million favours.”

  “I’ll hold you to that,” Makena said, laughing.

  Eleven am found Alisha at Pedro’s, Makena in tow. Even the path leading to the complex had Alisha feeling optimistic. The place looked clean and safe – no funny smells, open gutters or dodgy-looking characters. A large black gate marked the entrance. Alisha was impressed. A proper gate was something of a rarity in the area, especially on the ad-hoc places.